


Paper Flower

by einfach_mich



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, BBW, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/einfach_mich/pseuds/einfach_mich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward is a high-priced escort about to take on a new client. He has no idea that the woman he's about to meet is going to change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ememmyem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ememmyem/gifts).



"This is not another bitch executive with a hidden sadist streak, is it?" I yell into my head set, over the chaos of traffic.

"No, Edward. I assure you, this time it's a simple engagement. No surprises. Trust me on this one," Aro groans in my ear, like he was one that being put out. Right. He wasn't the one that had a twenty minute long ass paddling. Nope, he's the one that had to pay me triple time for said ass paddling. He got it at a bargain, if you ask me. I fuck women, not the other way around.

"Alright, text me the details," I say, right before hanging up. I allow myself a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of being a dick to Aro. He tolerates my behavior, because I make him a lot of money. It's a mutually gratifying relationship. My phone buzzes in the cup holder, as some asshole in an Escalade cuts me off. I don't react, because I have other ways to work out my aggression. As we come to a stop at a light, I pick up my phone and open up the text message.

**Bella 730 Hyatt Regent bar. Wear black, she wear lily. Prepaid**

Interesting; prepaid, with no other instructions, means that she has the night. A night with me isn't cheap. I really hope this is not another dominatrix wanna-be in disguise. This time I'm not going to play nice, I'm going to just turn around and leave.

I walk into the lobby at seven twenty eight, cutting it close, but I made it. I adjust the collar of my new jacket and check my hair in the mirror behind the check-in desk, before strolling into the bar. It's pretty empty for a Friday night. Then again, this hotel attracts more of business crowd, so the execs must either be headed home or out on the town.

As I scan the dimly lit interior, I spot a woman at the bar - the only woman in the place. Her back is to me, so I take the opportunity to check the "lay of the land," as I approach. Generous in the hips. If I had to guess her dress size, it'd be in the teens. Definitely has had kids. I like the slope of the shoulders, and long neck. Her dark hair is pulled up into a clip, which I do not like. I like women with long hair, and I like to see it down, flowing free. Still, her pale skin has a nice pink blush to it.

As I reach the bar, I make sure to put a respectable distance between us. Her round face ends in a small dimpled chin, it strikes me. Her features aren't conventionally pretty, but her face reminds me of the women in old paintings. Her dark eyes are staring nervously at the other side of the bar. Definitely a first timer. Her mouth looks soft, with just the right touch of pink. She has a little roundness to her face and the soft curves of her body speak of children and domesticity. Not that that bothers me one bit. I like women that look like women, and this "Bella" looks like a woman. I lower my gaze to the flower pinned to her dress, and confirm that she is in fact the engagement.

I can't help but smirk. The pale white petals of the flower have gold lettering that matches the hotel moniker on the cocktail napkins. It was a perfect replica of a lily, right down to the inner petals. Something about that strikes me. While it's obvious that she forgot her flower, I find it oddly endearing that she not only knows origami, but can do it on the fly. I'm smiling, genuinely smiling, for first time in I don't know how long.

"Bella?" I say her name in my smooth all-business voice and watch her jump, startled by the sound. She looks at me, her eyes widening a little. I inwardly sigh, disappointed that she reacts like every other woman. _Yes, I'm very impressive_.

"Uh, yes," she stammers as she chews her lips anxiously, saying nothing more. It takes me a moment to realize that she must've forgotten my name. Aro would have sent it along with the message about the flower, which she also forgot. Poor Bella is having quite a rough start.

"Edward." I whisper it, so that the bartender at the other end of the bar can't hear me. She rewards me with a relieved smile.

"Oh, Ed-ward, hi." She stumbles over my name, adorably disarmed. I can't help but smirk a little. She's fiddling with the tiny beaded handbag that seems strangely out of place in her hands. Her eyes aren't meeting mine, but are instead fixed on someplace lower - was she staring at my mouth? Oh, well, must make a mental note about that.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." I ooze charm as I extend my hand. She stares at it for a minute, before taking it gingerly. We shake hands gently while I fight the urge to laugh, since she's still staring at my mouth. Oh, I'm going to have fun with this one. "So what are you drinking," I ask, as I signal the bartender.

"Huh, oh, um… Coke," she says blushing, her pale skin turning an even brighter shade of pink. I get a little hard, which surprises the hell out of me. The bartender appears across from us and I quickly glance at his name tag before I order.

"Rum and Coke, please, Peter." I flash him a smile and he returns it, while shaking his head. It's all part of the effect, I think, as I notice that she's looking thoughtful. How could she afford me? The dress, like the expensive handbag, just doesn't look right on her. She's no executive, more like a housewife. The image of her in a pair of worn jeans and a baggy t-shirt, vacuuming some nondescript living room pops in my head and my pants get a little tighter. Who knew I had a Donna Reed fetish.

"Make that two please," she adds, just as Peter is pouring rum into my glass. He gives me a raised eyebrow. I smile and give a small nod. He can tell, like I can, that she doesn't drink. She really must be nervous, which means I'm going to cut this short. He returns with the drinks and I tell him to charge them to the room, which is covered as part of a pre-paid night with me.

"How about we drink these in the room?" I pick up both glasses and turn to the door. She makes a small sound of protest and I look over my shoulder as she stands up. She straightens her skirt and waits for me to lead the way. I step back and use my arm to push her in front of me. I want to watch how she moves when she walks. She gives me a questioning glance, but then starts to walk.

I watch the silky fabric swish and slide over her shapely ass, as I stiffen a little more at the sight. I'm really going to enjoy my job tonight.

* * *

I'm standing in the elevator with the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I can feel his arm touching mine and I want to step away, before it drives me insane. Why did I let Rose talk me into this? Why did I let her pay for this? I'm never going to make it through this. As I fight off the panic attack that's welling up inside me, the elevator dings and the doors open.

"We're here." His voice is deep and resonates low, making me ache. I walk out of the elevator and down the long hall. I start digging in the microscopic handbag that Rose's friend, Alice, loaned me, searching for the key card. I pull it out just as we reach the door. I slide the plastic card through the slot and the red light shines on. I slide it again and the light mocks me with its redness. I sigh in frustration. I feel weight at my back and I freeze.

"Here, take this," he says, his hot breath skimming against my ear as he shoves a drink into my free hand.

I take it and try to stifle a shiver as he grabs my hand that's still holding the card. He twists my wrist so that the magnetic strip is facing the opposite direction it had been. As we slide the card through again, I notice a little picture on the lock showing the direction the card should have been slid through and pray to be struck down by lightning. The light turns green. His hand holding the drink presses down on the handle and he pushes me forward through the doorway.

"Here we go," he says as the light comes on and the reality of what we're here to do starts to sinks in. I trip on my heel, but thankfully recover before I fall over. My drink splashes all over my hand and arm.

 _You need a little romance_ , she said. _A healthy dose of passion and heat will do you good_ , she said. As I stand there, alcohol dripping off my arm, in a borrowed dress and heels, I don't feel the least bit romantic. I feel like an idiot. Like a pathetic cow that has to pay handsome men to have sex with her, which is basically the truth.

"Bella." The walking dream says my name and I want to die that much more. He walks around me to set his drink down on the dresser, then returns to take the drink from my hand. I don't move, because I'm worried that I'm going to cry if I do. That would be the frosting on top of my humiliation cake. He sets my drink down next to his and walks towards the bathroom. I hear a click as the bathroom light comes on. I hear the sound of running water and then the squeak as he turns it off. He emerges with a damp washcloth and I stare down at the floor. I can feel myself turning purple.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, as a lump in my throat tries to choke me.

"It's just soda and alcohol, Bella," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. I look up at his beautiful face. His eyes are fixed on my arm as he runs the warm, wet washcloth over my skin, his mouth turned up in one corner. I feel sad when he finally pulls away and tosses the cloth into the bathroom. As his eyes rise to meet mine, I feel awkward and twitchy. His eyebrows wrinkle as he smiles at me.

"What?" he asks with a confused look on his face. I don't know what to say, because I know I'm crazy and he's going to know it, too. I hold up a finger, signaling that I need a minute, as I dash to the bathroom.

* * *

As she takes off to the bathroom, I'm sure that I've spooked her. Though, I have no idea how. Shit.

"Bella." I follow her into the bathroom, because if she's getting sick, I'm going to let her out of this. I don't want to pressure her and honestly, I'm a shallow asshole that doesn't want to kiss her after she's puked.

When I make it through the bathroom door, I see her folding the washcloth and placing it on the towel rack. I'm laughing before I realize I'm doing it. She turns and looks at me, turning an impossibly bright red.

"I'm sorry," I gasp and try to collect myself as she pushes past me and I immediately sober. I just fucked up big. I manage to get the door before she does and I lean against it. "Wait, I really am..." I stop at the sight of the tears running down her cheeks. Her eyes are fixed on the floor. Shit.

"Please move, this was a mistake." Her voice is raw and it cuts right through me. I sigh and step away from the door. I am a fucking jackass. I don't know how I screwed this up, but I know I did. She yanks the door open and I'm seized by panic. I don't want her to leave like this, I can't let her.

"Please stay," I say in a hush and she freezes in the doorway. She seems to be waiting for something, and I'm scrambling for some genius thing to say that will turn this whole situation around.

"Why?" She speaks in a calm voice and I feel like I'm having a stroke, but I've got nothing. "That's what I thought." She steps into the hallway and the door starts to close. I panic and open my mouth without thinking.

"Can I get a goodbye kiss?" I blurt it out and immediately feel like an ass. That has to be the cheesiest fucking thing to come out of my mouth, in my entire life. Aro would fire me if he heard me say it, but she stops. I don't waste any time. I grab her wrist and gently pull her back into the room. She allows me to pull her to stand in front of me. Her eyes stay on the floor as the door closes behind her.

I brush her hair behind her ear, so I can have a better shot at her mouth. I know I only have one chance to make this work. I have to make it good. I slide a finger under her chin and lift her mouth up to meet mine.

I start out slow, just a gentle press of flesh, and then I exhale over her mouth, opening mine a little to tentatively touch her bottom lip with my tongue. It's like the spark that ignites a volcanic eruption. Her mouth opens as her body slams into mine and I'm quickly drowning under her onslaught. Her tongue eagerly dances with mine as her hips press into me, driving a groan from my mouth.

* * *

He moans and I suddenly realize that I've just attacked a total stranger. I pull back, my heart's beating a mile a minute and I feel strange aches in places I forgot I had. His face is flushed and he looks a little shocked. I can't believe that women don't react to him this way. If I could afford to keep him, I would kiss him all day, every day, until my lips fell off. The thought sends a delightful tingle down my spine to pool in my belly. He takes a breath, like he just remembered how to do it. He looks so flustered, it's kind of cute.

"Just give me a chance to make it up to you," he stammers, and I almost laugh. He still thinks I'm going to leave. After that kiss, is he crazy?

"Okay," I say, because my brain just isn't working well when he's looking so flustered and turned on. Oh wow, did I do that? No, I couldn't have. As I stare at him, he gets a confused look on his beautiful face.

"Wait. Okay?" He shakes his head and I laugh. I slap my hand over my mouth, right after I do it. He just frowns and shakes his head. I start to feel awkward, when he pulls me back into his arms. "You are something else, Bella." He smiles down at me as he says it and I tighten in all the right places.

"You're not so bad yourself, Edward." I try to sound cool, but my voice cracks like a twelve year old boy's and he erupts into laughter.

* * *

Is she for real? Where did she come from, and why am I so amped up that I want to tear off her dress and push her down ... Need to focus. First things first. I start to kiss her neck and she makes this delicious squeaking sound. My fists tighten in the fabric of her dress and I start to walk us back to the bed. As I use my teeth on the tender skin under her ear, she moans low and long. The sound seems to work some kind of primal magic on me, because I'm overwhelmed. I growl and throw her onto the bed. She shrieks in surprise and dissolves into giggles as I leap onto the bed, bouncing us up and down.

Who am I? I'm acting like a teenager, amped and horny. I laugh as I start to kiss her nose, cheeks, and then finally attack her mouth. She's laughing too as she pulls my shirt from my pants and slides her hands over my chest. She draws her nails down the skin of my chest and I choke with surprise. She freezes, then gasps as I press myself into her, showing her how much I enjoyed what she did.

"Oh," she practically purrs as I begin to slide down her body. My legs slip off the end of the bed and I slide my hands up her legs. She snaps upright in a flash, her hands gripping mine and making me stop. I look at her, because I'm sure that she can't want to stop. Her eyes have a wide panicked look.

"What's wrong?" I don't move, because there's something about her expression that makes me suspicious.

"I, um, I need to go to the bathroom," she stammers, but doesn't move. She stares at me, licking her lips nervously and I start to smirk, because I know this reaction. Women are not all the same, but they often react in similar ways. Especially in embarrassing situations like shock, panic, and shame. I've seen this before. It's an occupational hazard or perk, depending on what they're embarrassed about and how dramatically they react.

I've had a broken nose, a cracked rib, and dislocated shoulder, to list the more memorable injuries. My brother often teases me about my work, saying I'm a lucky son of a bitch. Easy for him to say, he's never had to lie his ass off to our family doctor after having a dildo hit him in the eye. It's all fun and games till someone gets a corneal abrasion.

I cautiously slide my hands up her legs, testing Bella's hold, and find it intriguingly limp. Maybe she wants me to see. I feel fabric a little sooner than I would expect to, halfway up her thighs. As my fingers trace short, curious half circles over the smooth fabric, my mind puts the pieces together. Not all women are supermodels, not even a quarter of them, in fact. Which is fine by me, because most models are too skinny and selfish. I should know, I've dated a few.

Bella groans as I keep pushing her skirt up to reveal her off-white body slimmer. I've been with enough self-conscious women to know what these things are and to dislike them intensely. Why beautiful women think it's sexy to squeeze into these expensive tube socks is beyond me. I just know it's a pain in the ass to get it off of them. It takes skills to peel a woman like a banana and still keep her in the mood. Luckily, I've got just those kinds of skills.

"Mmm...What have you got under there?" I tilt my head down to look at her through my eyelashes as I snake a finger up her leg and under the Lycra.

"What are you, oh-" She makes the most adorable gasping moan as I work my hand inside the leg of the suit. My fingertips immediately feel how wet she is for me. _Nice_.

* * *

There's an itching tension that's arching my spine as Edward leans over me, his mouth tracing circles over the tops of my breasts. Somehow, he's worked my dress over my head, though it's still hanging off my arms, trapping me. Every breath I take seems to tighten me in new and underused areas. He has what feels like most of his arm up the leg of my body suit and his hand... oh, his hand. No, his fingers, they're teasing me. Brushing at the edge of my lips, making me moan and shift ever so slightly towards him.

"What was that, Bella?" I can feel his hot breath scuttle across my skin as he chuckles at me. I swallow hard, trying to catch my breath, and answer.

"I said, are you going to help me out of this or are you really that talented?" I have no idea where that came from, because I really only just moaned like a cat in heat. There was something burning in my mind, something that got switched on by the sound of his laughter. It swirls in my mind, making me hot and... angry. Edward didn't seem to see the look on my face as he leans back and laughs.

"Oh, Bella, are you playing me?" He leans in close, his eyes fixed on mine with so much intensity I have to look away. "Look at me." His voice is husky as his finger slides into me slowly.

"Oh GOD!" I choke as my hips buck, sending his finger deeper.

"Fuck," he groans as I feel myself clamp around him. I can't help it, the feel of him inside me, it's mind blowing. It's been so long and my god, if this is how his finger feels… He moves his hand and I can't stifle the moan that it pulls from me. My head drops back as he begins to thrust into me, deeply. "Relax," he says in a hush, as his movement ceases. I open my mouth to ask how I could possibly relax, when he starts to pull back.

I whimper as I feel his finger slide from me. I sit in stunned silence as he pulls my dress off my arms and urges me to rise from the bed.

He leads me to the bathroom and leaves me standing in the doorway. I wrap my arms around my shoulders as Edward kneels beside the bathtub and turns on the water. I shiver in the cold, bright light of the room as I watch him lean over the side of the bathtub, turning the faucet as he tests the temperature of the running water. I am standing like an idiot, wondering again what the hell I'm doing here.

"Bella, come here." His voice is seductive and low, but I can still hear it over the sound of the rushing water. I walk over to him as he turns to fix his eyes on me and I feel that strange swirl in my belly as my toes curl. He smirks as if something is funny and I think it's me.

"What?" I sound more defensive than I intended. His smile widens and he shakes his head.

"Come here," he chuckles as he reaches out his hand to me. I huff, but move the last remaining steps to take his hand. His skin is smooth and warm as it grips my hand. I feel my face begin to heat as he pulls me to stand next to the tub. Steam begins to fill the air, licking at my skin as he stands in front of me.

He looks down at me and I feel naked already. He's got this smirk that's making me annoyed and hot all at once. His hand slides up my arm and as he leans in, I prepare myself for the kiss. I close my eyes and hold my breath as I feel him get closer. Then I feel a tug at the strap of my body suit and his lips press against my skin, where the strap had been cutting into the muscle of my shoulder.

"This couldn't have been comfortable." He speaks in hot brushes of moist air and I can't speak. I swallow hard as I feel him move. His hair brushes my neck and chin, and I hitch my breath. The other strap is pulled away and his lips smooth over my sore shoulder. I sigh at the feel of his mouth on me. "Better, but not even close to done," he mumbles, and I wonder if he's talking to me.

His fingers trace twin lines down each of my arms as he pulls at the straps. I feel them tug at the top and give way to his strength, flipping down the front of the built-in bra and allowing my breasts to slip free. Instinctively, I raise my hands to cover myself, but my arms are trapped. He makes a soft "tsk" sound as he holds the straps, using them to restrain me.

"Trust me." His breath slides over my face and I gasp, realizing he's so close. Then his lips press against mine and I forget what I was trying to do.

* * *

Why did I not at least take off my shirt first? Her tongue is dancing around mine and I feel like she's the one doing the seducing here. The weight of her breasts are pressing into my shirt and my hands itch to touch her, but I have a plan. I'm going to stick to it if it kills me. With Bella topless and making love to my mouth, it just might.

I pull back from her mouth to kiss and bite at her chin, allowing enough space between us to pull the straps the rest of the way off her arms. Her hands, now free, wrap around my neck, fingers combing through my hair. Her fingernails are cutting lines in my scalp, making me groan as my dick strains in my pants. Whoa, down boy.

"Bella, hold onto my shoulders." My voice is showing my strain. Fuck. She doesn't seem to notice. She's trembling, as her hands rest down on my shoulders, gripping the expensive fabric of my suit jacket in her hands. I slowly crouch, pulling the bodysuit down her legs. I gently tap the inside of her thigh indicating that she needs to widen her stance. She moans quietly and I have to bite my lip. That fucking sound is getting to me.

I peel the fabric off her hips and down to her thighs. I have to slide my hands in between her skin and the suit to shove it down her legs. The contact has a strange affect on me. I look up at her. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is slightly open, and something about that look makes me a little crazy. I yank the suit the rest of the way down her thighs, until it drops to her feet.

I stand up in a rush and crash my mouth against hers with such force that she slams back into the wall. The sound brings me out of my haze and I pull back.

"Are you okay?" I ask, looking at her face as I cradle the back of her head in my hands. She's looking at me with such heat that I can't help but press the lower half of my body into her. What is wrong with me?

"Oh, god! I mean, yes," she gasps and grinds back into me. She starts covering my chin with light kisses and I begin to teeter, like I'm on the edge of a knife. I've broken all kinds of rules, tonight. For a second, I think, _what's the harm in breaking one more_. It's a greedy thought, because I'm so close to just unzipping my pants and fucking her right here, right now, against the wall. Sex is most definitely on the menu tonight, but it is not going to happen like that. Bella isn't here for my pleasure, I am here for hers. It takes every ounce of my willpower to pry myself from her, but I do it.

"Are you ready?" I indicate the bathtub and she gives a shaky nod. I hold her hand as she steps into the water and I wait until she's seated before I turn off the water.

"Ahh, this is nice." She relaxes a little, but I can feel her watching me. I try to ignore her expectant gaze as I stand and remove my jacket. I carefully hang it on the peg by the towel rack and unbutton my cuffs. As I roll up my sleeves, I turn back to her and try to stay in control by focusing on her face.

Her fancy hairstyle is beginning to droop from the humidity and little tendrils have escaped to dance in the water beneath her face. I sigh a little as I lean down and unhinge the clip at the back of her head, gently tugging it free. Dark curls tumble down in a silken blanket over her shoulders, and gently float on the surface of the water. I want to kiss her again, but I restrain myself and grab the sea sponge at the foot of the tub. I dip it into the water, as I take hold of her arm. I place a kiss on the inside of her wrist and start to slowly scrub gentle circles on her skin. I reward myself by looking at her submerged body and my control falters for a minute. I am so fucked.

* * *

I try to decipher the strange look in his eyes and tension in his jaw as he cleans me. I can see the muscles in his neck flex too, as he dips the sponge between my legs. I can't help but moan and shift. The soap alleviates some of the friction, but there's enough of it that I feel electricity cut a path up my spine.

His takes hold of my leg, pulling it toward him, as I let my other leg relax against the other side of the tub, opening myself to his long, loving strokes. He works in circles as my hips tilt up a little and my breathing becomes ragged. His grip on my leg tightens as I start to moan. Abruptly, he abandons the sponge and begins to work me with his fingers. I grab his shoulder with one hand as I feel his fingers move over me, trying to start a fire. I can feel his muscles move beneath my hand as I dig my nails in, trying to find some kind of stability as the world begins to spin and my climax hits me full force.

I gasp for air as I buck against his hand and I hear him make a small noise that almost sounds like a whimper. I worry that it's from pain and loosen my grip on his shoulder as I try to slow my breathing. I hear the heavy metallic sound of the drain opening and deep gurgle of the water sliding away from me.

"Do you need help to stand?" His voice brings me back to myself and I nod, because I'm too weak to even talk. I watch him stand. I can't see his face, but I can see his chest rising and falling in time with my own.

If I don't get her out of the tub, I'm going to end up in there with her. Staring at her laid out like that was making my mouth water and my dick beat itself senseless against the side of the tub. I pull her up to stand and as she starts to step out, I feel her slip. I catch her just before she hits the floor. As I pull her back to standing, she clings to me, her face pressing into my arm.

"Sorry," she mumbles into the cotton of my shirt and I smile as I smooth my hand over her soft hair.

"Don't worry. Can you stand or do you still need help?" I ask, even as I feel her pull away from me and see her shake her head.

"No, I'm fine. The heat just got to me for a second," she says without looking at me, and I know it wasn't the heat. Normally I'd be smug, but I'm too busy feeling weak.

"Okay, just stay there," I tell her as I place her hand on the towel rack to hold herself steady. I pull a plush cotton towel from the rack and get to work. I need to stay calm, so I try to just focus on the pale, shapely legs in front of me. I pretend to not hear the soft whimpers that escape her as I press the cloth against her skin.

The hushed sound of cloth rubbing skin fills the room as neither one of us talks. After her legs are dry, I move down and ignore the disappointed sigh she makes as run the towel over her feet. I tighten my jaw, not liking that I've disappointed her, even though it's for a good reason. I need the time, the space, to collect myself.

Sighing, I lift my eyes. Her breasts are covered with a fine sheen, nipples swollen and tight, but I look past them to her face. She's looking forward, her teeth pressing into her bottom lip and I feel my muscles cramp with the need to move. I stand slowly, gently rubbing the towel over her upper body, trying to focus on what is beneath the cloth. I need to get her back, but I'm worried if I make her turn, she'll lose her balance again.

I reach over her shoulder and lean in so I can dry all of her back with the towel. I can feel her breath on me as she shifts a little.

"Is this part of the service? Do you do cars, too?" She says it with a breathy chuckle. I look at her face and she's got a dreamy half smile. This woman is unbelievable.

I drop the towel as I sink to my knees in front of her, my eyes fixed on the soft skin of her stomach, making my mouth itch to bite.

"Edward?" Her voice is filled with concern and I look up at her face. Her long hair is draped over her shoulders and hanging around her face. I take a deep breath to try and ease the overpowering effect the sight of her loose hair stirs in me. I smile at her, sliding my hands around one of her legs, lifting it up to rest her foot on the lid of the toilet. I take a moment to admire the gentle curve of the flesh just above the heel of her foot. I love how it slopes up to form the back of her calf, how the muscles flex as I trace my finger up her leg to stop mid-thigh.

I hear her breathing pick up, I can smell her in the air, and I can't resist any longer.

"Brace yourself, Bella." My voice is raw as I say it, taking hold of her legs. I press my mouth to her and she cries out.

* * *

"Uh... GOD!" I yelp as Edward's tongue slides over me, the shock of pleasure making me lose my balance. I sway and reach out with my free hand, blindly grasping for anything stable. I touch something solid and grab it, having enough mental faculties to register that it's a small bar holding the hand towel.

Edward slides a finger into me as his tongue flicks my clit and I forget my own name. A wave of pleasure slams into me. This is too much, I can't hold on. I feel him slide another finger into me and I start to shake, like hypothermia is setting in. He blows a cool stream of air across me and I cry a little. It feels so good.

"Too much?" His voice makes me open my eyes. I have to see his face, have to see him... there. All I can see are his eyes, clear and sparkling. I can't talk, so I shake my head and then I'm confused by the question, so I nod. His eyes pinch at the corner and I wonder what that means. I am answered with the hot press of his tongue and without warning, the orgasm rockets through me. I scream as I press my hips down into him. A brief flash of concern is extinguished as he makes a rumbling sound, then digs his nails into the skin of my hips, slamming me down onto his mouth. Another climax rips through me and I cry out, but this time I have enough of a mind to form a word.

"Edward!" It's a curse, a promise, and a blessing. He's pulling at me, and my hands slip from their holds as I fall into his waiting arms. He lays me out on the cool floor. I feel the strange contrasting texture of the tiles and the scratchiness of the bathmat.

"Bella, I'm sorry," Edward says with tenderness as he looms over me, his hand tracing the lines of my flushed face. I shake my head, but I can feel him moving between my legs. My mind begins to understand and I moan, as I reach out to pull him closer. "I promise I'll be gentler, better, after." He places a kiss on my forehead and then devours my mouth.

He pushes into me in one thrust and I only have the energy to moan, as I tilt my hips up to meet him. He's moving at a frantic pace and I try to match him, but finally give into my greed, letting him just take me. He releases my mouth, leaning up, and I feel him sink deeper. "Edward," I say his name, as I reach out to brush his beautiful hair. It's brass turned gold in the light above us. He looks at me, seeing me, and his eyes widen as his face shifts. His hips stop abruptly and he pulls out. His mouth is open, in a look of shock, almost horror, and I wonder what I've done wrong.

* * *

I just made the biggest rookie mistake ever. My dick is naked, covered in her wetness, and there's not a condom in sight. I have lost my fucking mind. I'm a fucking professional. Movement catches my eye - _Bella_.

She's getting up, on shaky legs, and the look on her face makes it clear that she's blaming herself for my idiotic reaction. Shit, shit, SHIT!

"Bella, don't." I go to her, but she puts up a hand and shakes her head.

"It's okay," she says in a strained voice, and I put my hands on her shoulders, turn her around. She's looking down and I put my hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are so hard, her mouth is trembling and my chest is burning at the sight.

"I'm sorry, I just..." I stop short, the lie on the tip of my tongue, because I don't want to lie to her. I don't want to fight. "I got carried away, and I forgot protection." My voice is high and raw, it sounds earnest to my ears. Her eyes seem to search my face, trying to find the lie.

"I'm on birth control," she grumbles. Her face is pinched, but I can't resist smiling at her annoyance. Her expression darkens, but she doesn't pull away.

"And I get regular screenings, Bella, but it's still important." I feel like I'm lecturing her and from the look on her face, raised eyebrow and frown, I know she thinks so too.

"Are you going to tell me about the dangers of gateway drugs, next?" She smirks up at me. Her face is so beautiful when she says smartass remarks, I can't help but kiss her. She pulls away, her hand on my chest, and I look at her confused. "Stay focused, Edward. Where are the condoms?" She says it with a wink and I pull her to me, crushing a yelp out of her as I kiss her again.

As our mouths play over each others, I walk her back out of the bathroom, to the dresser. Aro has this room set up before each engagement with everything I might need, including a nice supply of condoms. I continue to kiss her chin and neck as I reach to open the top drawer. I blindly feel for the first package I touch, pulling it out and letting go of her for a second to fight with the foil package. I successfully tear it open and pull out the slippery condom.

"Can I try?" Bella's hand touches mine, her eyes fixed on the condom with amused curiosity. I am struck dumb and just nod, handing it to her. I turn my back to the dresser, placing my hands on its edge as she stares at my now painfully erect cock. She licks her lips and my breath catches in my throat as she places the condom on the tip. I shudder as her delicate fingers press the sides of the latex down, the pleasure from that small pressure making me light headed. She smooths it the rest of the way down, sliding her hand over me, her grip firm.

"Yes." My voice is strain, as the small plea leaks out of me and I feel her kiss my sweat covered forehead.

"I guess that means you're ready." She laughs softly, her breath dancing over my wet, too hot skin. I growl, as I lift her off the ground and swing her around. She's laughing as I set her down on the dresser, but I can only focus on one thing. I need to be inside her, more than I need air. She leans back and I pull her hips to the edge, place myself at her entrance and rub there, for just a few seconds. Her laughter cuts off in a choked moan and I'm satisfied enough to sink into her.

"Bella," I sigh her name as I lean into her body, and feel her begin to tremble. "Can you feel me?" I ask as I exhale across her skin and she arches up, her knees lifting, sending me deeper. I have to stop for a second, catch my breath. I shift, putting a hand against the wall for stability, next to where her head is resting. Bella's nails press into my back, making me hiss.

"Don't stop." She's growling and the sound makes me lose my mind. I widen my stance, get a better grip on her hips, and start thrusting into her with enough force to make the dresser rattle. She moans as I begin to set a steady rhythm. Her eyes are filled with heat and I know that I can't hold out long. I'm drunk on the sound of her, the smell and taste of her.

I keep moving, driving into her with every ounce of strength that I have to give and I try my best to hold out, to make her happy. It starts as a low keening sound; I feel it vibrate through her and into me.

"Bella," I groan her name as I feel her start to contract around me and my control crumbles as I'm thrown over the edge.

* * *

I'm giggling. Edward is laying next to me, in the heavenly bed that it took us two hours and innumerable amounts of orgasms to reach. Sex with Edward is... indescribable, but is way more comfortable on a mattress.

"I don't think my legs are going to work," I say with a sigh, as I try to lift a leg off the bed. It's stopped short by the tangled sheets. Edward chuckles and tightens his arm around me, pulling me into his chest.

"There's no need to worry about that. If it comes to it, I'll carry you." He takes my hand and begins to play with my fingers, tapping my nails and sliding a finger over my knuckles.

"I don't think so. I would hate to break your back." I chuckle and press my cheek into the unbelievably smooth skin of his tan chest. I feel a slight pinch on the side of my hand and look up to see him biting me. "Hey!" I try to pull my hand, but he holds onto it as he pulls it from his mouth.

"Every time you make a joke about your weight, I'm going to bite you." He stares at me as he says it, and I feel uncomfortable.

"You don't have to do that. I mean, it's sweet, but I'm okay with my body," I stammer, and look at a spot on the headboard to the left of his head, because his intense stare is making my heart jump into my throat.

"I'm not doing it to be sweet," he says as he puts a hand on my chin and makes me look at him. "Bella, you're beautiful." The look on his face as he says it makes my chest compress, but I catch myself, because no matter how sincere he seems, I know that it's not real.

"You have to say that," I say, trying to sound blasé and push his hand away.

"I guess you have a point," he sighs, as he looks at the sheets. Why do I feel like I've just called him a whore? After all, he is in fact a man that is being paid to have sex with me - whoa boy, did he earn his money tonight. I think I just hurt his feelings, _me_. "I'm not trying to be mean. I mean, you've been so nice, I mean great. The best!" I stammer and he starts to laugh. I look up to see him smiling, though there's a sadness in his eyes that's making it hard for me to breathe.

"You're beautiful," he says again, but the sound is low and kind of animalistic. I feel it resonate in my belly as he pulls me up his body and kisses me.

* * *

I leave the hotel in a haze. The sunlight is blinding me as I hand my ticket to the valet. There's a strange surreal quality to LA in the morning. It almost looks too pretty, which isn't LA at all. I turn around, as if I feel the ghost of last night still at my back. _Bella_.

"Here you go, sir," the kid says, as he steps out of my car. I shake myself and get into my car. This is ridiculous. I'm twenty-eight years old, I shouldn't be this shaken up over sex with one woman. Amazing, heart stopping sex, with the sweetest, funniest, most fucking adorable woman I've ever met. _FUCK!_

I jump out of my car and toss my keys in the general direction of the valet as I jog back into the lobby. I don't know what the fuck I'm thinking. Scratch that, I'm not thinking. I'm all guts right now as I repeatedly punch the "up" button for the elevator.

"Come on," I hiss under my breath, like I'm trying to out run someone; maybe it's my common sense. With a light-hearted ding, the doors slide open and Bella is standing there. Her hair is a total mess, her dress is wrinkled, and her shoes are in her hand. I have never seen anything sexier in my life. I don't speak, I just push her back into the elevator and slam her against the back wall as the doors slide closed behind me.

"Edward," she squeaks, just before I kiss her sweet, beautiful mouth. There's electricity and heat there, in that touch, that makes me bold. She pushes me back and I reluctantly release her, because I know she needs more than just a kiss. Her eyes are huge, her face is flushed and breathtaking. I can see all the questions, but she just moves her mouth, no sound coming out.

"I was just wondering if you'd be interested in going out with me. You know, on a date?" I ask with as innocent a look as I can muster on two hours of sleep and a love addled brain. 

_Love? Yeah, huh._

"Date?" Bella squeaks again and I laugh as I nod. She laughs too.

* * *

The gentle roar of symphony music fills the dinner hall as I work the crowd for all I'm worth. I see my target up ahead, her tawny hair, sparkling eyes and a waterfall of diamonds dripping from her neck.

"Tanya, you look ravishing, as always," I announce with great flourish as I take her gloved hand and bring it to my lips.

"Edward, you're shameless," she giggles, looking vibrant, despite the notable signs of age. She pulls her hand free and playfully slaps at me. "My husband might hear," she feigns concern as she tugs on her husband's arm.

"Marcus, you better keep a close eye on her," I say with a wink as I shake the hand that Marcus extends as he too laughs. No one can resist me, when I turn on the charm. "Now, I hope we can count on you two," I say, putting a serious tone in my voice for just a second. Marcus nods as he pulls an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and hands it to me. I slide it into my own pocket. I thank them, shaking his hand and kissing her cheek, before I move on through room.

By the time I sit beside my mother, who is taking a break from working her side of the room, I estimate that I alone have surpassed our goal of ten million. Esme Cullen taught me everything I know about how to charm a room. Kings, diplomats or bag ladies, my mother can make lifelong friends with anyone. I'm not surprised when she flashes two fingers and then makes an "o" with her thumb and forefinger. _Shit_.

"Twenty? Really, Mother, couldn't you go easy on your son?" I say with a smirk and she gives me a light pat on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, dear. I'll cut you break at gin, but when it comes to the foundation, I take no prisoners." She flashes me a devilish smile and I laugh. My mother lives for this - not just the socializing, but knowing the good she's doing for others. The Cullen Pediatric AIDS Foundation is one of the largest privately run charities in the country. We always make or surpass our fundraising goals. Now that I work for the foundation full time, we're breaking records and are branching out into sponsoring hospice care. I'm about to ask her who she's hit, preparing to make another round, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I discreetly pull it from my pocket and see that it's Bella.

"Pardon me, Mother," I say absently, barely registering my mother's smile and dismissive hand wave. I walk over to a private corner of the ball room, before I open the text message.

**How's the night going? Found a cougar?**

I smirk as I type out my reply.

**Night's great. Cougars are all around, but I could care less. Your night?**

I hit send and glance up to check the room. Everyone is laughing and talking as the music swims through the air. The scene would be beautiful to other people, but as I wait for Bella's reply, I heave a sigh of sadness. It's Saturday, and usually I would be stationed at the end of the couch, next to Billy. I would be preparing for a few hours of humiliation at the hands of the superior video game skills of Bella's six year old son, while she argues with her daughter over dinner. The conflict was usually rooted in Sabrina's choice to become a vegetarian. Her dedication was impressive for a ten year old. My phone buzzes again.

**Apparently cheese is now evil. Don't ask. Miss you... and your cute ass.**

My chuckling is cut off by the last part of her message. Six months, and she can turn me on like a light switch with a simple text message. I type my response and decide to push it a little.

**It's mean to tease. At least send pictures.**

Whenever I'm out of town, I tease her about sending me nude pictures. She always gives me a smartass remark about ordering porn on the hotel TV, like a normal person. I just tell her the truth - I would rather look at her than any porn star, model or goddess. Every day, she seems to believe me a little more. I've worked hard. Quitting escorting was a start, hell, it wasn't a fucking option. I tried to do an engagement after that first night with Bella. I made it to the room, suffered through a passionless kiss and then left. I drove right to Bella's house. Sabrina answered the door. She looked so much like her mother, it hurt to see her look at me with that cold, accusing stare.

"Are you the reason she's crying?" she asked with a frown. He eyes, much darker than Bella's, bored into me.

"I'll make it better. Where is she?" I met her gaze as I spoke, and she let me enter the house. I found Bella curled in a ball on her bed. I crawled up behind her and held her, promising that nothing had happened and that I'd never go back. I've kept my promise, despite Aro's ridiculous threats; like I care. My phone buzzes after a little while.

**You better appreciate this.**

I frown at the screen, confused by her message until I realize it has an attachment. I feel myself get hard as I open it and am rewarded with a fuzzy picture of Bella's delectable cleavage. I forget how to breathe for a second and then I finally summon the brain power to respond.

**That was amazing. You're so beautiful, baby. When I get home, you're not getting out of bed for a week.**

I'm already planning on arranging for Alice or Mom to take the kids for the weekend so I can live out my fantasy of violating her on every surface of her house, which could involve some nude vacuuming. This time, I might even let Bella do some, too. I'm caught up in a detailed fantasy about hand-feeding Bella chocolate dipped strawberries, her favorite, when the phone goes off again.

There's no message, just an attachment. My hand shakes a little as I open it and I lose the ability for any coherent thought. It only takes me seconds to recover. I glide over to my mother.

"Mom, I've got to go," I say as I give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Are the kids alright?" She gives me a concerned look. Emmett told me that she refers to them as her grandchildren when Bella and I aren't around. She's so hopeful that we'll make it official soon. I love her, but she needs to relax. It will happen.

"They're fine." I shake my head and she relaxes, giving me a wave goodbye. As I head towards the exit, nodding and waving to people along the way, I hit the quick dial. She picks up on the first ring.

"Edward, you're still at the party?" Bella's speaking in a hush, confirming that she must be alone in her room, taking the pictures she's sending me. Which means she's naked, or close enough for my taste, right now.

"I'm off the clock and you better get comfortable, because you're coming back to the hotel room with me." I try to sound commanding as I dive into the first cab I see and hope that I can keep it together until I get there.

"Oh, well, then. Where should I start, Mr. Cullen?" She's purring through the phone and I try to not groan. She is evil and all mine.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday morning in an empty house is kind of sad. I have Sports Center blasting as I stand in the kitchen eating some of Billy's sugar-bomb cereal. The kettle sounds like it should start boiling soon, making it that much closer to a fresh French Press of Colombian.

I pick up the remote and punch the favorite button. The Cartoon Network blares to life, and I watch some confusing Japanese Anime show with a samurai with a tail and 80's metal hair. I think it's one of the ones that Billy likes. He has a whole book shelf of his comic books that I've been collecting for him, much to Bella's annoyance. I make him do chores to earn each book--most of the chores total bullshit--but Bella lets me get away with it.

The kettle whistles, and I turn to pick it up. As the water fills the pot, swirling and mixing with the coffee grounds, I inhale deeply. The smell of coffee is almost better than the taste. I finish setting up the pot, set the timer on the microwave and return to the odd samurai cartoon. I'm not sure that I really understand what's going on; it seems he knows this dark haired girl who kind of reminds me of Bella. That gets me thinking about Bella, leaving me confused and horny.

It's my own fault. I suggested that my mother take Bella on a little girl spa getaway thing for her birthday. Bella deserves a break from everything. Embry took the kids for the weekend, and Billy practically bounced out the door when they left. Sabrina was subdued, as usual, but she rolled her eyes when I asked if she wanted to stay with me. I took that to mean "no." I laughed, remembering how Bella complains that she's getting an early start at being a pissy teenager, even though she just turned 11

I turn off the TV with a sigh and stare at my soggy breakfast. I walk over to the sink, making sure to rinse out my bowl before I put it in the dishwasher. I lean on the counter while I wait for the coffee. It's too quiet. The house is too empty and lifeless. I miss Bella yelling at me through the floor instead of coming downstairs to ask me a question. I miss Billy sneak-attacking me whenever my back's turned. I even miss Sabrina pointedly ignoring me when we're the only two people in the room.

I sigh as the microwave beeps and I press the coffee. I sift through the over-stuffed cabinet that Bella gave me to store my collection of coffee mugs. After a great deal of thought, I choose my "hard workin' man" mug, a gift from Bella. She left it for me on the kitchen counter the first morning after I officially moved in. I always call her my "hard workin' woman," mostly to tease her for being stubborn.

Bella doesn't need to work. I could support us nicely with my salary from the foundation, not to mention my family related assets, but she refuses to live a life of leisure. She insists that it would spoil the kids and that she needs work to keep her mind active. It took every ounce of self control I had to not laugh at her when she said it.

The truth is that she's freaked about moving closer to the "m" word. I never imagined that I would be the one pushing for a long-term commitment. Then again, I never imagined I'd meet a woman like Bella.

"Bella," I sigh as I say her name and laugh at myself, looking down at the reflection of my smiling face in the black liquid in my cup. _Ah, Ed, you are one lucky asshole._

The front door slams open, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

"Shit," I yelp, spilling coffee all over the place.

"I'm going to my room!" Sabrina yells as she stomps through the doorway and heads up the stairs. I put down my coffee and rush toward the door.

"Sabrina?" Embry appears in the open doorway, his face stricken and flushed.

"Hey, what's going on?" I ask and he gives me a look that's a combination of angry and a plea for help. Embry's a good guy. He and Bella have handled their break-up real well, which is good, because I like him. He's funny and easy going, which makes Sabrina's little drama-splosion confusing.

"It's just..." Embry shakes his head. "She's having a hard go of it. Bells won't tell her about her father and it's not my place." Embry's face falls a little, as he looks at the empty stairwell. Bella told me a few months after we were together that Embry wasn't Sabrina's birth father, not that it seemed to make any difference to him. They'd told Sabrina the truth when she was 8. Bella told me that Sabrina had taken the news well, but it seems like things may have changed.

"I love you, Sabrina! No matter what," Embry yells at the empty stairs. I hear stomping and a sharp smash. Sabrina's not very verbally communicative; I've seen her in arguments with her mother, and she tends to express herself physically. I imagine that something just hit her wall.

"Kids," I say with a weak smile and shrug.

"Yeah, I don't want to put you in a bad place, man." Embry gives me a pained smile and I feel my heart go out to him. He's having this hard time with his kid and he's apologizing to me.

"Don't sweat it," I say with a wave of my hand.

"Thanks, man." Embry gives me a soft playful punch in the arm. "I'll drop Billy off tomorrow night. Good luck." He practically runs out the door, and as I see it close behind him, I realize what's going on.

"Son of a bitch," I hiss as some kind of angsty thrashing music begins to make the house vibrate.

* * *

"Mother!" My voice sounds a little more strained than I'd intended, but Sabrina's been alternating between thrashing angry rock and equally annoying depressing whiny rock music. I think I have a migraine and am ready to either start drinking or just hang myself.

"Edward, are you okay?" My mother sounds startled and I panic. I don't want to ruin Bella's weekend.

"I'm fine. Is Bella around?" I'm whispering, like a jackass, as if anyone around my mother can hear me. I'm stressed out.

"No, she's up in her room taking a nap. Do you need me to get her?" She switches from concerned to suspicious. My mother knows me well.

"NO! I mean, please don't bother her," I sigh, relaxing against the kitchen counter. "I just need a little help here, with... Sabrina." I groan as I comb my fingers through my hair and listen to my mother's soft laughter.

"What is it?" Esme Cullen is sweet and tolerant, but she is also my mother. She's lived through my arrogant teen years, my psycho girlfriends, and so much more. I wonder if she's been waiting for this day, when all my sins would be visited back on me.

"She came home early. Embry said that she's upset about -" I stop short when I hear stomping on the stairs.

"Edward, are you still there?" My mother asks; her concern returning.

"Just a second," I mumble into the receiver, as Sabrina comes stomping around the corner. I'm frozen where I stand, as nearly five foot tall ball of female rage storms past me.

Sabrina grunts as she yanks open the silverware drawer, and I wonder if it's supposed to be an acknowledgment of my presence.

"Uh, hey," I say lamely, as I watch her grab a spoon and march over to the freezer. She pulls open the door, reaches in, and produces a large carton of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk. It's Bella's special ice cream; even I don't touch it, but there's no way I'm going to stop Sabrina as she storms back out of the kitchen.

"Edward?" My mother's voice startled me and I remembered that she was still on the phone.

"Oh, sorry mom." I say as I hear Sabrina's door slam. "She's a little scary." Esme laughs through the receiver, irritating me a little.

"Edward, dear heart, you really need to toughen up," she laughs and I stiffen. She's my mother; she's supposed to be helping me, not laughing.

"Mom," I say, whining, when I'd intended to sound angry. How does she do this to me? Suddenly, I'm 12 and she's teasing me about finding a Playboy under my bed. She sighs, but at least she's not laughing.

"First, it doesn't matter what she's upset about. What matters is that she's upset. Second, do not try to tell her about something similar to her situation," she says in a low droning tone that makes me feel like I'm in school again.

"But don't you think it might help if I tell her about my-" I don't even get to finish my sentence before my mother starts groaning in my ear.

"Edward, you're over-thinking this," Esme says with a tolerant sigh. "Just listen to what she has to say, show her that you're on her side, and above all else, DO NOT say anything about yourself."

"Right. So what should I do right now? She's upstairs playing music really loud." I'm not sure how I should put her instructions into action.

"I suggest that you relax and wait for her to talk to you. She might not say anything at all. Just try to be ready to be there for her, in case she needs you," she says and I let out a long sigh.

"You're sure it'll work?" I ask as another thumping rock song begins to shake the ceiling.

"Yes, now go. I need to get ready for dinner," she says with a little laugh.

"Alright, I love you mom. Thanks," I say, as I creep into the living room.

"Good luck, dear." She hangs up as I quickly make my way past the stair and settle onto the couch.

So, the plan is to do nothing, it sounds easy, maybe too easy. I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

* * *

I'm an hour into _Happy Gilmore_ and halfway through a large pepperoni pizza when I hear the stairs creak. I play it cool, half-watching Bob Barker beat the crap out of Adam Sandler as Sabrina leans against the opposite end of the couch.

"Is that pepperoni?" she asks casually.

"Help yourself," I say with a nod and take sip off my beer. She slides onto the couch and grabs a piece of pizza. We sit in silence for another 20 minutes, with her munching and me drinking my beer. As I chuckle over Happy's fantasy about midgets on tricycles and half-naked women holding pitchers of beer, when I notice that Sabrina was staring at me.

I give her a sideways glance. She has one leg folded underneath her, the other bent, with her knee tucked under her chin. I figure this means that she wants to talk to me. So, I set my beer bottle on the table and shift so I'm looking at her. There's a curious and almost annoyed look on her face, that reminds me of Bella. I try hard to not smile and fail.

"What?" she asks in a soft growl, which makes me want to laugh, but I stifle it, knowing it would only piss her off more.

"Nothing," I say with a shake of my head. We sit there in silence for another few minutes. Then Sabrina huffs, her body lifting and then deflating with one breath.

"It's just...like, I'm not a kid. You know," she says as she turns her head to look at the TV. She sets her cheek on the top of her knee, but I can still see the tell-tale glistening in her eyes.

I start to freak a little. I'm not prepared for crying; crying is my hard fucking limit. Luckily, she's able to gather herself as she raises her head and looks at me. She has a look of resignation on her face, and for a moment, she looks so much like her mother that it's almost worse than the crying.

"I'm just tired of their excuses. Like, it's my right to know... about... him."

She slaps her hand to her chest and I nod, not really getting it, but I'm not about to say anything. Sabrina nods, her eyes shifting to the back of the couch. She goes quiet again as she picks at a loose thread sticking out of the upholstery.

"I just want to know where I come from." Her voice is so quiet and strained.

"Yeah," I say softly as I fight to stay still, to not say more. Esme said that no matter what she said, I should just agree and support her. To not try to reason with her, to not try to relate or tell her about myself. It sounded it easy, simple, but it's like torture to watch her struggle and not try to help.

I want to tell her how much her parents love her. That it doesn't matter who got her mother pregnant, that Embry is her father and that's all that mattered. I want to tell her that she has a family that's here for her, and that I'm here for her, that I will always be here. Instead, I sit like a lump on the other end of the couch, while she fights back tears in silence.

After a few silent moments, she shifts a little and pretends to watch the movie. I follow suit, keeping a close eye on her as she starts to eat pizza again. After the credits start to roll, I turn back to her. She's already on her feet. I freeze as she closes the distance to stop in front of me, her hands on her hips.

"Thanks," she says in a short, clipped voice. Her thin arms circle my neck in a hug. I pat her back awkwardly, and she pulls away. She gives me a brilliant smile as she bounces away.

I hear her bounding up the stairs to her room and then some pop diva starts to howl about partying the night away, and I relax back into the couch.

I have no fucking idea what I did, but it must have worked. Thank fucking god.

* * *

"Edward?" I ask softly.

"Mm, yes," Edward's voice is breathy, and I can imagine him spread out on my bed.

"What are you doing?" I continue, a slight giggle to my voice.

"Shouldn't you be asking me what I'm wearing?"

"Alright, I'll bite. What are you wearing?" I sigh, sliding a little further into the warm embrace of the water, as the bubbles tickles my chin.

"Nothing," I can hear the smile in his voice as he says it. It takes me a second to realize his meaning.

"Edward Cullen, are you naked on my bed?" My toes curl as I speak, imagining his firm, toned ass pressed to my clean cotton sheets. He laughs in a low rumble through the phone.

"Yes, ma'am, I cannot tell a lie," Edward's voice shifts from light to a low growl. "My cock is so hard. Now it's your turn to tell me what you're doing, right now." His voice is breathy, making me light headed. I envision him moving against the mattress in a slow thrusting motion.

"I'm in the tub," I giggle as I confess to him.

"Where are your hands?" Edward's breathing is starting to pick up and I wonder if he's already touching himself. The thought immediately inspires a corresponding mental image of a nude Edward stroking himself as he talks to me. Electricity shoots through me and I moan a little. "Oh, well I guess that's a good enough answer for me," he says in a low chuckle. I suppress a laugh as my hands grip the sides of the tub. I don't want to ruin the fantasy by telling him.

"Where do you want my hands to be?" I try to make my voice sound seductive, doing my best to sound like Kathleen Turner in _Body Heat_.

"Whoa," Edward says with a startled snort, which immediately annoys me.

"What?" I'm trying to be fucking sexy and he thinks it's funny.

"I was just wondering why you've been holding out on me... Mrs. Robinson," Edward's voice has its low rumbling quality that makes him utterly sexy and irresistible, but I'm still a little pissed. I stand up, wobbling a little from the heat of the water. I press the button for the drain with my toe and it springs open, the water drains away with a loud, gulping sounds.

"What's that?" He sounds normal, concerned.

"I'm getting out of the tub," I sigh as I press the phone to my shoulder with my chin and pull on the thick bathrobe. This place is amazing, and I really need to thank Esme for this gift.

"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward groans through the phone as I tighten the ties on the robe.

"I'm just tired." I give him my old reliable excuse as I stomp into my room and sit down on the bed.

"Bella," Edward says my name in that long, low tone that makes me feel guilty and frustrated at the same time. I love and hate how easily he can read me. Embry hates confrontation, so even if he knows I'm pissed, he'll just let me be. I can count on him tip-toeing around me until I cool off. Edward won't let me stay angry. He'll poke, prod, and pester me. He won't rest until I'm smiling again. It's adorable and fucking infuriating.

"Edward." I say his name in the same tone, hoping he gets the clue to let me be as I search for the remote for the flat screen TV. Jesus, I don't want to know how much this place is costing Edward's mother.

"Did you find my present?" He asks almost casually, and I freeze. He's trying a different angle, and he's going to piss me off even more.

"Edward, I told you that I didn't want anything." I sit up and almost throw the remote against the wall. "Your mother's already spending a shit-ton of money on this spa..."

"Bella, stop," Edward sighs through the phone and I grip the remote so tightly the channels flip faster than my eyes can keep track.

"What?" I ask slowly, as I try to work past the tension in my jaw.

"Please, go look in your suitcase," he begs quietly, and I slide off the bed, quickly crossing to my suitcase. I kneel and throw open the lid.

"What am I looking for?" I ask as I toss my neatly folded clothes over my shoulder, frustrated with how our night's been fucking ruined. He doesn't answer me. He doesn't have to, because as soon as I lift my worn pair of sweat pants out of the way I see the box. I gasp, because it's shape was unmistakable.

"Edward!" My voice is raw. I fight back the fear that's making my hands shake as I lift the small velvet box out of the nest of clothes.

"It's not a ring," he says quickly, and I feel disappointment flood me.

The reasonable, adult side of my brain reminds me that we've only been together a year, and it's too soon for me to be expecting an engagement ring. Especially since I'd told him flat out that I'm not ready to jump back into marriage. I fucking hate myself sometimes. I love Edward and I will happily accept if he asks. It's Edward that I'm worried about. He's still young and he has his whole life ahead of him. He's too young to tie himself down with a family and me.

"Good," I say in what I hope is a stern voice.

"I know the rules and I try to only bend the smaller ones," he says with a breathy laugh. I make a small grunt of agreement as I open the lid of the box. The silver sparkles like diamonds in the defused light in my room. I can't breath as I pull it from the box, the long chain dangling feather light over my fingers.

"Edward it's... beautiful," I whisper into the phone.

"You like it?" His voice is high, showing his age a little, and I laugh. "I remembered when you were working with Sabrina on her project and you said how you loved it."

How did he remembered that? I'd been helping Sabrina do a project on symbols, and we'd drawn up a bunch of different ones. Ying and Yang, the peace symbol, and I'd added in the infinity symbol. I've always liked the idea of something never ending, that through twists and turns, it always returns to where it starts.

"I love it, thank you," I say softly, absently tracing the surface with my thumb.

"I want you to wear this and remember that no matter what happens, I'm with you." Edward's voice is serious as he continues. "I'm not going to ask you for a commitment that you're not ready to give, but I love you Bella and I'm not going anywhere, unless you kick my ass out."

There's a lump in my throat stopping me from speaking as fat tears roll down my face. I want to believe him and want to tell him how much this meant to me, but I'm a big weepy mess.

"Bella," he says my name in a tentative voice, and I sniffle. "Oh shit, are you crying? Please don't, I'm sorry." He's sputtering and it's fucking adorable.

"No, it's a good thing," I laugh as I wipe away the tears. "Hold on a second." I set the phone down and put the necklace around my neck. I fasten the clasp and trace the cool metal as it rests against the warm skin of my chest. I pick up the phone and move back to sit on the bed.

"Edward, you are so getting laid when I get home," I promise in my low, seductive voice.

"I really need to buy you jewelry more often," he says with a relieved laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally write for ninapolitan's birthday. I've decided to finally put it here, for those of you that might be interested in what Bella and Edward have been up to.
> 
> I would like to thank algonquinrt for doing a fabulous job of beta'ing this for me on very short notice.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta MsKathy


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